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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24990598">Your Soul &amp; Mine</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/exitium/pseuds/exitium'>exitium</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Of Knights &amp; Royalty, Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, F/M, Fluff, Original Character Death(s), Original Character(s), Original Universe, Reincarnation</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 03:07:02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,496</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24990598</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/exitium/pseuds/exitium</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Do you think the soul ever gets tired?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Antonius Vargus | Toni/Runi Fierran</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Of Knights &amp; Royalty</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Whole</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Toni doesn't belong to moi, he belongs to a friend named Mestiaaaaa!!!!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>    “Do you think the soul ever gets tired?” </p><p>The question she presents to him is simple, offered to him so delicately that, before the weight of the words hit, he responds almost immediately, his lips moving to murmur, <em>Yes, I think it does. </em>But then he remembers that this is Runi. And knowing her, this could be one of two things: a joke or something else entirely.</p><p>“Go to bed,” he prods. Toni thought she had fallen asleep hours ago, bundled up in the warmth of his sheets. Today was a long day. The shop was blooming, pun intended. Fresh flora from Floresia had arrived, and his regulars swarmed to buy the cherry blossom bonsais. Tasia had pruned them to perfection; he knows it was her careful hands that maintained their pleasant size, and it accented their charm. The bonsais were gone in less than an hour, so he had to replenish stock with other stock, and <em>that </em>was kind of a pain. </p><p>Runi was out and about, as usual. She didn’t elaborate much on her day, but she tuckered herself out trying to explain something to him she couldn’t quite grasp- something about <em>what-ifs </em>and <em>have you ever had weird dreams about yourself somewhere else?  Somewhere that doesn’t exist?</em></p><p>Birds fluff up when they get stressed. Her naturally straight, red hair had been fluffy all day, her ribbon cartoonishly perked up like she was alert. Toni had soothingly patted down her hair as he tucked her in, murmuring that they can talk about it in the morning, nodding that he promises he’ll sleep soon… But inspiration struck in the dead of night, and his hands itched to draw. Draw what, he has no idea. So he spent the last three hours at his desk with only the light of his desk lamp as his companion as he sketches out shapes, allowing his mind to wander. </p><p>“I think it does,” she says. </p><p>So it’s not a joke. Toni pauses, then sighs. It could just be sleep talking. She does that sometimes. Wake him up gently in the middle of the night and mumble something incoherent, then tuck herself back into his neck. Whatever the case, he’s to hear her out. <em>A dream, probably, </em>he thinks as he turns on his chair.</p><p>His heart jumps to his throat. </p><p>Her eyes are stuck to the wall, expression distant. Like she’s not quite here. But the tears dripping down her cheeks, those are apparent. Everything about Runi is so comical- big ribbon, big eyes, big tears. Her reactions are <em>big. </em>When she cries, she wails. When she smiles at him, she smiles with all her heart. There was never a time that she cried so silently, so distantly. Not like this. Never like this.</p><p>“Runi?” He questions. Toni gets up and sits at the bedside. There’s a light sheen of sweat that makes her bangs stick to her forehead, which he pushes back from her face. “You’re crying, duckling.” </p><p>Two blinks of her wide gray eyes. “I am?” </p><p>“Mhm.” Knuckles gently rub over her cheek; the action makes her eyes water, her lower lip quiver. </p><p>“I think the soul gets tired,” she says, and her voice breaks in too many places. “I had a dream about you.” </p><p>“Mhm, but first. I want you to take a deep breath. I can hear your breaths shortening.” Like she’s on the brink of a panic attack. Runi’s little mind is somewhere else, and she’s trying to understand the pace of this reality- their reality. </p><p>He cups her cheek, and that brings clarity in her eyes somewhat. He knows she heard him. Runi inhales slowly, then exhales it all out… </p><p>And the soft tremors in her body calm. Toni smiles gently down at her, one she weakly returns. “Very good. Go on.”</p><p>“I had a dream about you,” she whispers. “About us. But not here, somewhere else. And… you were so far away. Something kept us apart. The sea, the earth, the sky. We were so far away from each other, and every time I called out to you, you looked at me. But you looked so sad. Your eyes looked so pained. What happened to you?”</p><p>Every word pines for heartache. He can hear it in her voice; there’s something she sees that he can’t quite see. Toni has experienced loss before. It’s killed him, it’s left parts of him dead. But this pain she speaks of, he can tell it’s a different kind of loss. A more complicated one. Something that leaves burning heartbreak. </p><p>“What happened to us?” </p><p>
  <em>Us. </em>
</p><p>“And then it all went away in fire. You were <em>gone,</em>” her words are a broken sob, “and I didn’t know where you went, Toni, where did you go? And I kept looking for you but I stayed the same, I never aged or anything, I was a fire that couldn’t be put out no matter how much I wanted to be. I came back every time thinking, this life. This life, you will be in it. But you weren’t. And I’d have to live without you again.” </p><p><em>What life did we live, in your dreams, that I was gone for so long and you were left?</em> “In what world would we ever leave each other,” he coos, wiping her tears with his thumb again. “I’m right here.” </p><p>“I know,” she sob-hiccups, “it was just so sad. I-I was so sad... Because you were sad, and I couldn’t do anything about it. And you kept saying, your heart will get tired of me. Your soul will get tired of me.” </p><p>Runi shakes her head furiously. There is fierce clarity in her eyes, like it’s the only thing she is certain of. </p><p>“All fires burn out someday,” she whispers, “but from embers they can be revived again and again. No matter how many times I come back, whole but incomplete without you, my soul will never tire of you.” </p><p>It’s odd. Toni knows she doesn’t talk like that. It’s much too formal, much too pretty. Runi’s words are direct and bright, like sunlight. He almost wants to tell her to go to bed again, to sleep this off. </p><p>But something inside him whispers and responds to her words. <em>You and I will be happy one day, </em>it says, and the heartache and longing crashes down on him so hard and fast it nearly snatches the breath from his lungs. </p><p>“Toni?” Runi questions. </p><p>He blinks three times and looks down at her. </p><p>“You’re crying,” she whispers, and she links their pinkies together.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Incomplete</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>    Runi’s hands refuse to stop trembling, nowadays. </p>
<p>    She can’t remember anything about herself. Her favorite colors, her favorite flowers, her favorite foods… All of that has gone with time; her mind has broken and restitched itself in flame hundreds of times, rebirth and order again and again. Of course it comes back impartial and fragmented. The only thing she knows is how to <em>lead, </em>it’s become her nature. She can tell you the complicated politics of Somni and its fifty ruling houses, but she cannot, for the life of her, tell you why her scarred hands shake even when she stands still. </p>
<p>    How many battles have her hands seen? How many years have they’ve been with her? Runi doesn’t know. Runi doesn’t even know who she is. The world forced her to leave that girl behind. They said, <em>The moment you sit on that throne with spilled blood on your hands, is the moment you strip yourself away, piece by unforgiving piece until all that’s left is a body and a crown. </em> </p>
<p>    Her hands curl up into a fist as she brings her knees to her chest. <em>I have. I have. I have. I’m gone, so just let me go, let me go, let me go… </em></p>
<p>    (<em>“These flowers, they’re for you,”  he says; he holds them out so delicately, with practiced care she knows only he could possess. “They reminded me of you.”) </em></p>
<p>She’s forgotten how to breathe too. Air enters her lungs in large gulps but it doesn’t satisfy the blood rushing to her heart and head; short, panicked breaths leave her as she slants herself into the corner of her room, her shaking hands moving to shield herself from the world. </p>
<p>Time passes by, as always, on its own whims. Disregarding human nature, it has no heart for the ones at the wayside. Keep up or be swept away,  Runi has found that time listens to no one. People listen to time. Seconds could pass by and she wouldn’t know; it could be years that she’s locked herself in her room and forced herself into the corner and she wouldn’t know. Centuries could pass and it could feel like a second or more. Does it matter? </p>
<p>No matter how hard she tries, Time will always grab her by the back of her neck and command her, <em>Live. </em></p>
<p>(<em>“Another journey, then. As repentance for burning my sketchbook, you crazy little…! Ugh. Have you any idea how long I spent on those drawings?” </em></p>
<p>
  <em>“I’m sorry!” She cries, following after his retreating figure. “It was by accident, I really didn’t mean to…!”) </em>
</p>
<p>Runi tries to. Perhaps they were cruel, back then, when they forced her onto the throne even after what she had to do. Perhaps the world was unkind when it offered her no comfort after she murdered her own parents. But those moments where she swallowed down her own pain and agony just to <em>smile… </em>Even when she wanted to scream, even if all she asked for was to be <em>held, </em>perhaps it was training for the centuries of heartache to follow. <em>Forget yourself when you get on the throne, </em>they told her. <em>You are only fire; a tool, a weapon, a light. </em></p>
<p>She’s forgotten. She’s listened and she’s thrown herself away. </p>
<p>    But why hasn’t <em>he? </em></p>
<p>    (<em>“We’re connected,” she marvels, as she holds their hands up together. Toni stares in awe at the faint red string connecting their pinkies together. “The witch… She said in order to save you, I had to give some of my blood for the concoction.” </em></p>
<p>
  <em>    “And so now we’re bound together,” he concludes. A sound of resignation leaves him, before something like a smile stretches his lips despite his tired visage.) </em>
</p>
<p>    She digs her face into her knees. She’s shivering. “No,” she says. Because she can’t stand lying to him. “Not anymore. We’re not bound anymore. The string snapped when you…” </p>
<p>    <em>Died. </em></p>
<p>    <em>(“Floresia is so beautiful,” she murmurs as she stares out into the city of flowers in bloom. The wind carries a scent of sweetness, peaceful. But her expression shifted into a soft frown. “I wish I could stay.” </em></p>
<p>
  <em>    “Then stay,” he says.)</em>
</p>
<p>    She tried to. But circumstances caught up to them. Life was not like a fairytale, so unlike the fantastical novels of romance she used to read. Runi had thought, childishly, back then that maybe it will all work out. Maybe her parents can fix the infighting in Agria and maybe, when they hear word from her, that they’ll allow her to stay in Floresia to learn more about Espirasera. To stay with <em>him. </em></p>
<p>    That was all she wanted, really. Perhaps it was too selfish, just  to walk alongside him. She swears the flowers bloom brighter when she is with him. </p>
<p>    But his people needed him. Whispers of love, the one act of selfishness he granted himself-- the hole they dug themselves deeper into, the reality he had to face… She wanted to scream at him back then. She wanted to ask him, why lead her down this path if he knew that she was just getting in his way? She wanted to tell him she made sacrifices too, <em>she made sacrifices too</em>, but she did it in spite of him and herself- she fought for him.</p>
<p>    <em>(“But you gave up on us,” she smiled, “you gave up on me.”) </em></p>
<p>Every time she saw him, her anger was doused. She could live on as his friend; life was fleeting, and time with each other was few and in between. Runi took a step back from his life, and rather than to be beside him she chose to watch.  She watched him get married, she watched him love his wife, she watched him and his children and how the flowers bloomed in the darkness Floresia once was submerged in… And she watched him die. </p>
<p>    Runi presses her back up into the corner and sobs; the memories pass by her in flashes, the way life left his blue eyes. And the red string snapping into two, before fading- their ties, the only thing that held them together, <em>gone </em>with him, as he finally is laid to rest after all he’s done for Floresia… </p>
<p>    <em>(“Hey hey hey, shh shh,” he coos. He’s quick to scoop her trembling form in his arms, patting down her hair as she shakes and cries. “It’s just a bad dream, Runi. It’s not real.”</em></p>
<p>
  <em>A sob is all she can muster. “I saw you die,” she chokes out, “I saw them take you--” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“It’s just a dream, duckling. Promise. See? I’m right beside you. Right? I’m right here.” )</em>
</p>
<p>Weak hands take strands of her red hair and wound it around her pinky, twice. A third time, just to be sure. Runi buries her face further into her knees and nods, her tears warm against her skin. </p>
<p>If she closes her eyes and pretends, he’s right there with her.</p>
<p>
  <em>(“The world’s moving fast, I know,” he says gently into her ear, voice warm and sure. “But we can slow it down for us, just a little.”) </em>
</p>
<p>Runi whimpers, and shakes her head. “It’s too fast, Toni…” She can’t recognize her voice. Who is that speaking? Why does she sound so defeated? Her words come out between a strangled sob, too painful to admit. Like knives in her throat as she chokes out, “It’s so lonely without you…” </p>
<p>
  <em>(“It’s okay,” his voice is a promise as he holds her. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”)</em>
</p>
<p>She is no one in particular. And she can’t bear lying to him, not now and not ever. She’s sorry, Toni, she’s so sorry. This isn’t her anymore. She doesn’t even know who she is. The only thing she’s certain of is him; his smile, his laugh, the way he concentrates when he draws… But no, not her. </p>
<p>She promised him years and years ago that she would never give up on him. And she hasn’t. That hasn’t changed. Not a day goes by when she wonders how he is, if he’s resting well. If he’s happy. And if he’s well, if he’s healthy, she hopes he’s not sick. If he’s with his wife and children and all their friends from before, in a paradise where nothing can hurt them, where nothing can touch them. </p>
<p>But she’s given up on herself. She’s let go. </p>
<p>    She’s forgotten why her hands shake. She’s forgotten her name. </p>
<p>    <em>(“I say ni, you say…?”) </em></p>
<p>
  
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